You can cuddle even with zombies in the yard
by Lenni-chan13
Summary: Aomine is a dick even when there are walking corpses everywhere, but fortunately Takao knows how to handle stubborn basketball prodigies.


The first Christmas Eve after the accident is cold, snowless, and Takao spends it alone, hiding under a pile of corpses. His eyes keep watering, and he can't really tell whether it's from the fever, or the stench. Or perhaps from how he can clearly see as a faceless man aims and two shots tear through Midorima's stomach, leaving him on the ground motionless and bleeding.

Takao doesn't have much of a choice but to stay where he is, safely curled in a fort of rotting flesh, and wait for the men to leave. Somehow, he manages to fall asleep (or rather lose consciousness, the fever is clawing at his foundations and he hasn't rested or eaten in at least two days), and when he wakes up, there is no smell, no cold stiff bodies, only soft cover wrapped around him and soft, warm light emanating from a lantern at his head.

He is surprised to see a familiar face then, tanned skin, blue eyes, brow slightly creased with a seemingly permanent scowl. „Aomine." he mutters, voice weak and hoarse, the name barely audible on his chapped lips. The man above him does not reply and only scowls harder and places one calloused palm over Takao's forehead before killing the light and leaving the room.

It turns out Aomine isn't as much of an asshole as Takao thought (and Shin described). But perhaps the catastrophe changed them all, and the need for another human being is stronger than one's personality quirks. They manage to cooperate just fine, and although Aomine calls him annoying most of the time, and sometimes even punches him lightly, he still tends to be overly protective of him and Takao realizes he quite likes that.

It's also Aomine who leads the way, deciding where they will stay for the night and what city they head to after that. Sometimes his plans are a little crazy and don't exactly work out, but Takao still doesn't find himself complaining, especially not when Aomine loses it and instead of punching him attempts to shut him up with a kiss.

However, as much as it is pleasant, it also fills Takao with bitter disappointment when Aomine never does it again. His weak punches are less often now, but still, he seems to keep his distance, almost awkwardly careful to avoid all unnecessary physical contact. Takao doesn't like that, not at all, being the clingy person he is, but it takes almost half a year for the luck to turn back to him.

It's Christmas again, and they manage to find a small quiet house in the country, far from the cities crowded with mosters and even more dangerous people. Takao insists on decorating the house, and Aomine lets him but stubbornly refuses to participate, the only effort he makes is when Takao is hanging the plastic mistletoe in the doorway, balancing on his tiptoes, and Aomine harshly pokes at his ribs.

Takao falls into a fit of joyful laughter, and when he manages to protect his sides with his arms, he whines. „Stop it, Dai." And for once, Aomine does. He freezes, actually, and his features immediately harden. „Don't ever call me that again."he growls and walks out, slamming the door shut. Takao stands still for a moment, almost shocked. He can't fathom what could possibly piss Aomine off (well, more than usual, anyways), but then shrugs it off and continues with placing ugly decorations around the room.

Aomine comes back (but doesn't exactly stop sulking) for dinner. He doesn't say a word to Takao, barely spares him a glance. It becomes annoying-though Takao prefers to call the situation uncomfortable. He tries to fill the silence with chatter, but it doesn't feel right, not even to him (and that says a lot since Takao could probably tell jokes at a funeral without feeling awkward). That's why he shuts up and decides to follow Aomine's example and stubbornly glare at his portion of canned tuna.

„Sorry about before." Aomine mutters after the meal, still avoiding Takao's gaze. It's surprising and causes Takao to flinch. „I just...Satsuki used to call me that." Now that explains a lot, Takao thinks. He can't even begin to express his gratitude that Aomine didn't even ask and started calling him Kazu right away, his last name still reminds him of the way Midorima used to call him.

„I didn't know that, sorry." Takao says hesitantly. „Can I call you Daiki then?" he asks, and Aomine finally looks at him, blue eyes strangely wide and for once, even the slightest trace of his scowl is gone. Takao expects another refusal, but Aomine gives a slight unexpected nod, and then leans in, and kisses Takao again, far away from the mistletoe that started it all.

It's strangely slow, gentle, not like Aomine at all, but Takao finds himself leaning in, arching against the dark calloused palms that slide under his shirt, teasingly slow and kind. „Come here." Aomine groans, breaking the kiss for a second, and Takao does, eagerly wrapping his limbs around Aomine, pulling their bodies flush together. It feels way too good, and although Aomine makes it hard to concentrate on it, Takao would swear that the way he cries _Daiki _is what sends the other over the edge.

Takao's third Christmas Eve in the new world is peaceful, since they settled in the mountains and Aomine seems to have caught a cold of sorts. (caught is a bad word though, both of them seem to be permanently ill and only occasionally, when the times are exceptionally hard, their bodies fail to handle the strain, making them feverish and useless for a few days). He's tucked under a pile of blankets, coughing and sneezing for the better part of the day, and silent otherwise as his throat refuses to let out any sounds but heavy breathing.

The fever makes him slightly more manageable, too, unlike other times he doesn't try to get out of bed so often, letting Takao take care of him just this once. There is another upside of the situation Takao gladly takes advantage of, and that's the opportunity to cuddle. It's not that Aomine doesn't like it, but since they are always on the move, careful not to stay at one place for more than a day or two, they rather devote the precious time to passionate lovemaking, falling asleep soon after and rarely in each other's arms (because each of them rests with one eye open, ready to jump and fight). But now, when Aomine can barely stand on his own, Takao finds himself crawling under the covers way too often, whenever he can, and the other man never protests, even draws him closer, enveloping him quickly in a cage of dark, sweaty limbs.

It's idylic, way too much to last, so of course they are forced to go one day as a particularly large group of walking corpses approaches, their groaning audible even with the wind blowing and creating all sorts of noises in the house. The fences keep the monsters away just long enough for Takao to pack their belongings, kick Aomine out of bed, and run away before the wood gives in.

They can't rest until a few hours later, when they find a nice cave, not easily reached (impossible for unthinking creatures), and shielded from the wind. Takao wishes he could light a fire, but there are no trees in sight, and everything smaller is hidden under a thick layer of snow. He get's cold quickly, and shuffles closer to Aomine, who still seems to be a little overheated due to the fever.

„Daiki, I'm cold." He whines, poking Aomine's side to get his attention. (simple habits he picked up when Shin was still alive, since the man was pretty much oblivious and didn't really care until people spelled it out for him and jabbed a thumb between his ribs. In this respect, Aomine isn't much different to be honest).

„Go run laps around the cave then. You can even catch a bear for dinner." Aomine chuckles, but swiftly unzips his jacket. „Come here."

Takao does, eagerly settling between Aomine's legs, pressing to his chest. Aomine's arms wrap around him tightly and the shift in the temperature is immediate. Takao sighs happily and hugs Aomine back.

„You know we have blankets, right?"

„You're better." Takao mutters and cranes his neck a bit to see Aomine's (stupidly handsome) face. „Though the blanket would probably talk much less, that's true."

Aomine laughs (because it's really fucking ironic coming from Takao who never shuts up about even the smallest things) and kisses Takao's forehead, then the (freezing cold) tip of his nose and finally the already open, awaiting mouth.


End file.
